THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES

“She’s moved in with me.”

 

He sprayed beer all over me. Staring at me like I’d just pissed in his cornflakes, he wiped his face with his hand. It would’ve been comical if I wasn’t so nervous.

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“It’s not what you think,” I said, holding up a hand. “There were extenuating circumstances.”

 

“You better explain yourself, bro.”

 

Here goes. For better or for worse.

 

“Look, for reasons I’ve yet to figure out, she was living in her car. I couldn’t let her do that, it’s not safe. So I offered her my spare room.”

 

He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Right.”

 

“I’m serious.”

 

“About the fact she was living in her car, or about the fact she’s staying in the spare room?”

 

“Both.”

 

He nodded slowly again, and I could almost see the cogs turning in his brain. “So you’ve definitely slept together, then?”

 

I didn’t want to do this, but he wasn’t going to let it go. “Not yet, no.”

 

“But she’s living with you. So, is it like a flatmate situation or what?”

 

“It’s a recent development,” I hedged. “Like I said, she was living in her car. What was I supposed to do? We were brought up better than that. I had a spare room, she needed somewhere to live.”

 

Vinnie took a slow sip of his beer, never once taking his eyes off me. I could tell he was torn. “So, what’s her story, then?”

 

This was the bit I was dreading. “Honestly? I don’t really know yet, but I’m working on it.”

 

“You hardly know her, but you offered her your spare room?”

 

I sighed. This was getting tedious. “I knew you wouldn’t get it.”

 

“Whoa,” he said, holding his hand up. “Calm down, I’m just trying to figure out what the hell’s gotten into you. She’s the first girl you’ve dated since Em, you’ve only known her a week, you haven’t even slept together, and now she’s moved in – what am I supposed to think? You tell me, bro, because this is way outside my realm of experience.”

 

I took a hefty gulp of beer. Here I was, having to explain it when I didn’t fully understand it myself. Exactly the situation I was trying to avoid. I took a deep breath and prayed for a miracle.

 

“You can laugh if you want – “

 

“I’m not laughing.”

 

“It’s just, it’s weird. I hardly know anything about her, yet I feel like I’ve known her forever. And she seems traumatised over something. I’ve got this feeling that she’s lost someone too, I think that’s why this has all happened so fast. It’s like she knows how I feel about Em, how it… broke me, I s’pose. I talk about Em sometimes, and she’s so understanding, as if she knows how it feels, and not from the outside, but from the inside, from my perspective, like she’s been there too. She’s holding it back though, and I just need some time to show her that she can trust me, that she can talk to me about it, but it’s not the kind of thing you can rush, y’know? I know she looks a lot like Em, and at first, I thought maybe that was why I kind of gravitated towards her even though I didn’t want to. I mean, I didn’t want a reminder like that – who would? That’s just crazy. But they’re really different, and that’s a good thing.” I took a deep breath. “I just feel better when I’m around her, if you want the truth. I want to be with her, and she wants to be with me. We fit. I feel like this is maybe some kind of divine intervention bullshit, and you know me – I don’t even believe in that stuff.”

 

I hadn’t expected to spill all of that. I wasn’t quite sure where it had all come from, but there it was, on the table between us, and he just stared at me.

 

“Wow,” he said finally. “Dude, I’ve never known you to speak in so many consecutive sentences before. Ever.”

 

I shrugged, as heat crawled up my neck.

 

“This must be serious.”

 

I shrugged again, taking a sip of beer even though my hand was shaking so much, I thought I might spill it.

 

“Do you love her?”

 

It was a simple question, and after what I’d just said, I couldn’t see any reason to lie about it. I nodded. I thought he’d be shocked. I thought he’d try to talk me out of it. I thought he’d try to warn me against moving too fast or falling too hard. But he didn’t.

 

“Have you told her?”

 

“Not in so many words.”

 

“Do you think she feels the same way?”

 

Not such a simple question. I hoped to God she did. I had a feeling she did – the indications were there – but neither of us had actually said as much. Yet.

 

“I hope so. It’s just been so fast. We’re still figuring it out. It’s not… y’know… normal.”

 

He took a sip of beer and sat back in his seat, watching me closely. Despite the fact he was capable of acting like a child at times, he also knew me better than anyone.

 

“Normal? I didn’t think there was such a thing as normal.”

 

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